Chapter 8
TWO DAYS LATER
BISHOP
The whine of the espresso grinder fills the air as Angelina works on the order for the woman standing at the counter. She’s been doing this for so long that she makes drinks without even consciously thinking about it, going through the motions by rote.
Ang says something to the customer that makes her laugh, then pauses and points through the windows, across the street toward Jude’s book store. Probably suggesting the woman make her way over there today, too.
Knowing Ang, she’s already convinced her to buy something there before she even sets foot inside.
It’s easy for her.
Interacting with customers. Offering a quick smile or story. Sending them off with their drinks to Hawke’s Novel Idea so Jude has a steady stream of people wandering in his doors and making purchases there, too.
The Grind continues to be one of the city’s favorite coffee spots because of all her hard work and ability to remain positive despite all the shit that has come down on her the last couple years.
But sitting here, tucked into the back corner, my mind can’t help but to drift back to what this place looked like after the bombing.
A black, charred shell.
Utter ruin.
We weren’t sure we should rebuild. Whether Ang would even want to after what had been done. But she never hesitated in her mission to ensure Hawke’s Daily Grind came back better than ever.
It meant starting from scratch. Rebuilding from the foundation up. It meant months and months of hard work and agonizing reminders of what was lost. But through all the sweat and tears, somehow, we did it. She brought The Grind back to life…
Only to have the grand reopening destroyed by Satriano’s thirst for power.
My eyes naturally dart to the front windows, to the sidewalk where several small tables stand for customers to use when the weather cooperates.
It’s a peaceful, pretty spot, and it isn’t unusual to see people sitting with a book from Jude’s and a mug with a piping hot cappuccino, enjoying the atmosphere of the quaint, historic street the Hawkes carefully created.
Yet, all I can see whenever I look out there is the blood splattered across the sidewalk—Uncle Stone, Isaac, and Kennedy lying there in it…
A shiver rolls down my spine, and I clutch my drink tighter in my hands and take a sip, hoping my favorite tea might warm those parts of me that have suddenly gone ice cold.
But it doesn’t.
Nothing can while sitting in this space today.
Satriano’s warning the day of the opening that he would be seeing us soon has rarely left my mind since then.
The only times I haven’t been thinking about it and worrying about what he might be planning were when I was in the ring with Atlas over the past couple weeks… or lying on that blanket with Gage.
It was one fleeting moment when the world seemed to stand still, when I was able to take a deep breath, when I somehow found blissful release in the arms of a man who then so quickly reminded me of why it can’t happen again.
Because of what happened here.
Because my job will always take priority or things like bombing and the attack on The Grind will happen again.
“Hello? Earth to Bishop.” I blink rapidly and turn toward the voice to find Allie looking at me with raised dark brows. “Where the hell were you?”
I shake my head to clear away the lingering memories as she slides into the chair next to me at my usual table, where I can have my back to the wall and keep an eye on everything and everyone in the café. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”
She blows out a huff that sends her hair flying off her forehead. “Well, you looked catatonic.”
Just lost in the memories…
Apparently, more so than I realized because two familiar faces now stand at the counter talking with Ang.
“When did Kennedy and Jack get here?”
Allie laughs. “Umm. With me.” She leans forward slightly to search my face. “Are you feeling okay?”
I turn toward the door to my left that leads to the kitchen and the only other entrance to the café. “Did you come in the through back?”
She nods and I release a little breath of relief.
At least I didn’t miss them coming in the front door while staring right at it, but the fact that I didn’t see them walk right past me on their way to the counter means I really was out of it.
That can’t happen again.
My focus has to stay on the here and now, not trapped in the past.
“Seriously, Bishop, what are you thinking about that has you so distracted?”
I turn toward Allie, who watches me with bright, worried blue eyes.
She’s the last one I want to unload my concerns on. After barely surviving the shooting at the condo, and with Pope’s “agreement” to help Satriano at the clinic still looming over them, I don’t want to cause her any additional turmoil.
Instead, I take a sip of my tea and offer her a smile that I hope conceals the continued maelstrom in my head. “Just work stuff you don’t need to worry about.”
She narrows her eyes on me. “Do I need to call Pope?”
Shit.
So much for being convincing.
If she thinks I need my doctor baby brother to come check on me, I must be doing a very crappy job at acting normal.
I shake my head. “Don’t you dare. Where is he today, anyway?”
It’s unusual not to have most of Hawke family members wandering in here at some point in the morning to grab their favorite drinks before heading off to their various offices, but it’s been quiet today.
Gabe came through to snag a tray of drinks for everyone who works out of the Club, but I have yet to see anyone else make an appearance for their caffeine fixes.
“It’s his day off. He took Ben to the zoo with Isaac, Vivi, and Gio.”
“Oh.” That explains why Isaac hasn’t been in to get drinks for him and Stone. “That sounds like fun. You didn’t want to go?”
Allie shakes her head. “I’ll be honest”—she gives me an almost embarrassed look—“I needed a day off, too.”
I chuckle. “Why do you think I’m never going to have kids?”
“I thought that, too and”—she shrugs—“look what happened.”
Point taken.
Allie certainly never planned to get pregnant with Dan’s baby.
Or anything that came after it.
His unhinged assault on the condo that almost killed Atlas and Astrid cemented his fate—and further brought Satriano into our lives.
She isn’t referring to that last part, but it’s impossible for me to separate the idea of having children from all the turmoil that has followed the ones born to the Hawkes.
When Kennedy and Jack approach with their mugs, sliding into the two remaining seats at the table, Kennedy grins at us. “What are we discussing? What’s the hot gossip?”
Allie sighs, rolling her eyes dramatically. “Nothing. Bishop’s distracted with”—she does air quotes—“‘work’ and is being boring.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Kennedy narrows her eyes on me. By far the shrewdest of the Hawke women of this generation, she knows what it means when I’m “distracted by work” and is the least likely to let Allie’s comment go. “What do you have to be worried about? The opening went off without a hitch.”
I give her a look that tells her to drop it because getting into the status of everything Gabe, Dad, Luca, and I have been doing to try to hunt down Satriano and this Michael McDonald person would ruin what should be a nice, relaxing morning for all of us.
She purses her bright red lips together with an exaggerated huff, then brings her coffee to them and takes a sip. Which offers me the perfect opportunity to segue to another topic of conversation.
One far safer—I hope.
I turn my attention to Jack, who hasn’t been out much since her release from the hospital—due to her morning sickness and Isaac’s incessant worry about her. He would keep her locked away in their house until the day that baby is born, if he could.
God knows he might have tried if Jack weren’t so formidable herself.
“How’re you feeling?”
She gives me a tight smile and motions toward her mug. “Well, I’m drinking decaf tea instead of my usual triple shot latte.”
I offer a sympathetic look. “I don’t think I could survive without caffeine.”
With my lack of sleep getting worse and worse as the days continue to drag on with no resolution to any of our problems, copious amounts of caffeine seems to be the only thing keeping me going.
Jack sighs and takes a sip of whatever Angelina made for her. “I mean, it’s not bad, but I could really use the caffeine most days. It’s hard enough chasing Vivi and Gio now that he’s trying to walk without dealing with morning sickness on top of it.”
I can only imagine…
My own stomach turns just thinking about it, and I take a sip of my tea as Astrid hustles in through the door and beelines straight for us.
“Hey!” She snags a chair from one of the other tables and drags it over. “Sorry I’m a little late.”
Kennedy zeroes in on her. “Where were you?”
Astrid’s back stiffens. “Um…” She glances away, waving to Ang behind the counter for her drink. “Just preparing for a tutoring session later.”
When she looks back at the table, it’s clear she’s lying.
Astrid has never been very good at covering her emotions, and the way she squirms confirms all our assessments. She forces a smile. “What’re we talking about?”
Allie offers an exaggerated sigh. “Nothing.”
The annoyance in her voice makes me fight a grin, but when Astrid’s gaze zeroes in on me, my hackles immediately go up.
“Then how about we talk about the hottie who showed up at the gym the other day and clearly had something going on with Bishop?”
Shit.
She’s clearly deflecting attention away from herself by throwing me under the bus.
I glare at her as everyone else zeroes in on me with intense focus.
Allie squeezes my arm. “Who?”
Kennedy drums her nails on her mug. “Spill.”
Jack nods her agreement. “Yeah, spill.”
I swallow the lump in my throat, then clear it and try to appear unaffected as I offer a half-grin. “He’s nobody.”
Astrid chuckles. “Bullshit. I saw the way that man looked at you.”